


scene 4: the ballroom

by kingozma



Category: Original Work, Rosamund Manor
Genre: Alcoholism, Ball, Gen, Horror, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Incest, Mental Anguish, Mental Health Issues, Mind Dungeon, Past Abuse, Recovery, Slow Burn, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:21:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23955250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingozma/pseuds/kingozma
Summary: a brief look into the troubled mind of THE LORD, and perhaps a first step towards healing his broken heart.[deals with implications of incestuous abuse as a whole]





	scene 4: the ballroom

Character List:

  * THE PIRATE – A tall, top-heavy Venezuelan man in his late 20s. Charming and suave in a way that is largely performative, his true self is quite modest, curious and witty. He has come to Rosamund Manor after hearing a number of strange rumors about it and its gruesome history. <http://toyhou.se/393810.the-pirate>
  * THE LORD – A slim, pale, freckled man with big, frizzy red hair, in his early 30s. In this surreal look into the past, he is a teenager. Who can tell what really happened? But something most certainly happened to him, and it fills him with despair, fear and hatred to his core. <http://toyhou.se/393812.the-lord>
  * GRANDFATHER – THE LORD's grandfather, an elderly man with thick white hair and a straight back. He is fun-loving and sometimes lascivious, but don't be fooled. He is a demon. M-metaphorically, of course.
  * VICTORIA – Who is she, really? She claims to be THE LORD's cousin, but she looks much like a potential twin. She looks like what might happen if THE LORD had a slightly more feminine frame and put on a dress, actually. Either way, she drinks to forget! Haha...



Setting:

_The story (or this isolated chapter of it) begins in the marvelous, shining ball room of the Rosamund Manor. The year is 1789, and in the splendorous white and yellow light of the dance hall, not a soul can tell it is past midnight outside. Away from the center of the action and the twirling gowns, in through the crowd sneaks a man born of the glory of Mayan gods with hair brown as espresso and skin brown as natural wood – he is constructed of life itself, it seems, and his natural, loose posture almost looks suspect in his stiff blue coat. You will not be allowed to know him as anything else but THE PIRATE. He is most certainly not on the guest list of this party, but there are so many people it mustn't matter. He is smiling and clapping along to the rhythm of the jaunty strings tune to which the guests of this grand party turn, but it seems he is interested in something else in this affair._

_Wilting under the attention of the giggling girls around him is the son of the master of the house – a terribly pale, skinny boy of 16, maybe 17. Though he doesn't have the presence of one just yet, this boy is someone you will know as THE LORD. And THE LORD has no clue THE PIRATE is here – that's good, that's exactly what THE PIRATE is counting on. THE PIRATE has been told ever so many things about THE LORD and his family's manor. They're vampires. They're witches. They're ghosts. That is, nothing truly informational. He is not here for money, he is here for a story._

_He doesn't notice an elderly man, THE LORD's GRANDFATHER, standing right beside him._

GRANDFATHER: Haha. Lovely party, isn't it? My wife orchestrated the whole thing – she can't rest knowing she's not in control of something.

THE PIRATE [ _Chuckling, good-natured, speaking with a notable accent_ ]: Truly the fairer sex.

GRANDFATHER: I must ask, though... You are young, why not join the festivities?

THE PIRATE [ _Pausing, as if he wasn't paying attention and is trying to figure out what was just said_ ] … I'm sorry?

GRANDFATHER: There's no need to be shy, son – I recognize that look on your face anywhere.

THE PIRATE: Do you.

GRANDFATHER: Oh, now – I was your age at one point, you know. I remember what it's like being young, unsure... I can tell, a girl's caught your eye. [ _laughing and wheezing softly, nudging THE PIRATE's arm with his elbow_ ]

THE PIRATE [ _Furrows his brows, still watching the back of THE LORD's head – and deciding to go along with the absurdity of this situation_ ]: You could say that, señor.

GRANDFATHER: Well, boy, you learn some things when you get to be as old as I am. I believe the wisdom best suited to this situation is... You've got to jump in and make the first move!

THE PIRATE: Really. Is that so?

GRANDFATHER: Oh, most certainly. You see, boy – women, they want you to come to them. 'T'wouldn't be ladylike if they were to come running after you, would it?

_THE LORD slowly turns his head behind him deeper in the center of the ball room, but THE PIRATE ducks behind the hors-d'oeuvres table before the two's eyes meet._

GRANDFATHER: HEAVENS, boy! You're not going to win any hearts acting like that! Oh – come on, get ahold of yourself, lad, get up. [ _bends his knees slightly, slowly, giving a labored little grunt, to help THE PIRATE back onto his feet_ ]

THE PIRATE [ _Visibly embarrassed by his panicky move, taking GRANDFATHER'S hand and pulling himself up_ ]: Thank you. You see... There's a reason why I'm not sure I can take your advice.

GRANDFATHER: Well, what is it, son?

THE PIRATE: I... I can't dance.

GRANDFATHER [ _Snorting dismissively_ ]: Everyone can dance. Maybe not well, but everyone can dance.

THE PIRATE: No, I truly mean it! I can't dance. [ _leaning on his right foot_ ] Do you remember the Silk War, señor?

GRANDFATHER: How could I forget? My own son served.

THE PIRATE: _Really._ Such a small world, isn't it? [ _grinning_ ] So did I. 5th Princess Charlotte's Dragoon Guards.

GRANDFATHER: Princess _Charlotte's_ – that's quite the honor, lad! My boy, Charles – He was a lancer. [ _Said as if lancers are not very important_ ]

THE PIRATE: All soldiers are honorable. However... During my service, something... [ _grits his teeth as if in sympathy for someone else, glancing to his left – a classic mark of a liar_ ] quite unfortunate happened to me.

GRANDFATHER: What was that?

THE PIRATE: I was shot [ _gesturing to his right foot, wincing_ ] right in the foot. The bullet bore so deep into me, got – tangled up in whatever was in there, I'll spare you the details – that the doctors were afraid of taking it out. Thought it'd do more harm than good.

GRANDFATHER: More harm than good?! Why, what kind of life is hobbling around on a bad foot like that?

THE PIRATE: It's much better than hobbling around on no foot. Seems that's what they thought the alternative may have been.

GRANDFATHER: Well... You must remember – one day you'll get older and meet an older woman. The standards start lowering right about then. [ _slaps THE PIRATE's back, laughing to himself_ ] Speaking of that, I've got to go check on my wife, this party's lasting rather late into the night and she doesn't like staying up for too long. [ _stage whisper_ ] She gets awful cranky when she's made to stay up past her bed-time.

THE PIRATE: [ _raises one hand, lowering his head in a gesture of friendly understanding_ ] Not another word. I understand. Go, attend to your lady, señor. I'll find my courage, I thank you for your wise words.

_GRANDFATHER walks briskly off-stage, calling out “Lorena!”, searching for his wife who is probably quite cranky by now. As soon as he is off the scene, THE PIRATE gives a sigh of relief – he doesn't have to cling to that lie for much longer. The girls on THE LORD's arms are laughing so loudly THE PIRATE can hear it from over here, over the music. They are joined by an older woman in a dusty pink gown whose bony hand is clamped tightly on THE LORD's shoulder._

_THE PIRATE can no longer see._

VICTORIA: Boo.

THE PIRATE [ _calmly, not moving a muscle_ ]: Ah. And who is this?

VICTORIA [ _removing her hand from THE PIRATE's face_ ]: Good evening, stranger. How nice to see an unfamiliar face. It gets dreadful, always seeing the same people at every party I attend.

_Standing beside THE PIRATE is a young woman whose height reaches about his shoulder. She is pale, with bright red hair – a familiar sight. She is wearing a ball gown with a top far too plunging for a girl of perhaps-19 summers, and she holds a half-empty wine glass._

THE PIRATE: [ _a charming smile crosses his face_ ] Why... I thought I was cursed to spend all my time with old men for the rest of my days, and here you are. [ _he takes VICTORIA's hand in his, lifting it to his lips_ ] You, young miss... You're family, aren't you?

VICTORIA [ _Giggling, swaying slightly_ ]: Aye. Family of the people of the house, I live here – I am the young lord's cousin.

THE PIRATE [ _peering at the girls surrounding THE LORD again_ ] It seems the young lord has many cousins.

VICTORIA: That's true. But I am his special cousin, Victoria.

THE PIRATE: Really. And what makes you special, Victoria?

VICTORIA: … [ _looks left and right_ ] … I am the holder of a terrible secret, stranger. [ _yet she smirks, placing one hand on the hors-doeuvres table to steady herself_ ] One that would destroy our family name if it reached the rest of the world... Maybe. You never know what other people will think. I know my parents would have me hanged tomorrow morning if they heard me talking like this... [ _devolves into snorts_ ]

THE PIRATE [ _sarcastically_ ]: Let me guess. He wet the bed as a child.

VICTORIA [ _just about cackles, and then speaks sarcastically_ ]: How did you know, stranger?

THE PIRATE [ _smiling_ ]: Just a hunch.

VICTORIA [ _rubbing her fingers in circles around the mouth of her glass. She seems almost-drunk_ ]: … It's a terrible disease. One passed from me... [ _tilts her head back, emptying the glass down her throat_ ] … To him.

THE PIRATE: To the Lord?

VICTORIA [ _jabbing her finger straight against THE PIRATE's chest, he winces under her strength_ ]: Preeeecisely... It's something in our blood.

THE PIRATE: A blood-borne disease, then? Ruin the family name indeed, there'll be none of you left one day! But – if I may... Just how would that pass from cousin to cousin?

VICTORIA [ _her face is weary, like she's going to fall asleep any second, and her stance sways like she really might fall down_ ]: … You think so deeply about these things.

_And so VICTORIA leaves THE PIRATE with that to dwell on. He offers the strange girl a tight-lipped, awkward smile as she heads on her merry way. He looks back, straight ahead, to the object of his interest – THE LORD-- Oh. Perhaps not._

_A pair of familiar green eyes is staring, boring right into his own._

GRANDFATHER: What did she tell you?

THE PIRATE: Ex...cuse me?

_The Pirate backs away slowly, gently bumping into the hors-d'oeuvres table he previously attempted to use as camouflage. Two girls nearby are closing in on his sides. Their stare is wide-open, to compare it to the eyes of a doll would be disingenuous._

GIRL #1 [ _Closing her arms around THE PIRATE's arm_ ]: What did she tell you?

GIRL #2 [ _Cupping THE PIRATE's cheeks in her soft, gloved hands_ ]: What did she tell you?

THE PIRATE [ _Chuckling nervously, but knowing better than to panic in his situation_ ]: Ladies – No entiendo, I don't even know who 'she' is! There's no need to be jealous. She means nothing to me. There's enough of me for both of you!

GRANDFATHER: Victoria.

GIRL #1: Victoria.

GIRL #2: Victoria.

_The people of the splendorous ballroom of Rosamund Manor have all seemed to stop their twirling, their laughing, their drinking, as well. Every single pair of eyes in the room is on THE PIRATE. Even the musicians on their pedestal have dropped their violins and woodwinds to the floor unceremoniously, their burning arms limp at their sides._

_And so the muttering starts._

GUESTS [ _Not all at once, but at different times_ ]: What did she tell you?

_One by one, the people of the splendorous ballroom of Rosamund Manor approach THE PIRATE._ _And now he begins to panic._

GRANDFATHER [ _Grabbing one of the many wine bottles off of the hors-doeuvres table, smashing it against the table edge_ ]: What did she tell you?

GIRL #1 [ _Digging her nails deep into THE PIRATE's arm_ ]: What did she tell you?

GIRL #2 [ _Tightening THE PIRATE's cravat almost painfully_ ]: What did she tell you?

THE PIRATE [ _Now certainly beginning to struggle in the combined hold of the MAN and the two GIRLS – he speaks as if he's warning his captors_ ]: Get... **Off** of me.

_Every single party guest, every man and woman in the bright and beautiful dance hall is now surrounding THE PIRATE – and all of them are repeating the same question. “What did she tell you?” Though everyone's voices are soft, the clamor is unbearably loud. A MAN much taller than THE PIRATE slips behind him, grabbing his hair and yanking his head back in one hand. The MAN twists THE PIRATE's arm behind him ruthlessly, earning a strangled cry out of him. GIRL #2 rips his cravat off by pulling the knot out, spreading the collar of his coat open and exposing his Adam's apple. THE PIRATE is now very anxious about the sharp, wine-dripped edges of the broken bottle GRANDFATHER is holding, but his struggling against the MAN behind him is much too tall, much too strong – and the space he has to breathe is growing smaller and smaller by the second as the party guests step in front of GRANDFATHER to get closer._

_And all at once, everything stops. The silence is worse than the muttering was. Everyone has stopped moving, as if frozen, and THE PIRATE can't help but wonder why. THE LORD is staring straight at THE PIRATE now, through the crowd. His arms are not at his sides, but rather they are bent behind him in a rather regal manner. Ah. That's why._

THE PIRATE [ _Muttering, almost hissing as he starts thrashing much harder to worm his way out of his captors' hold_ ]: Shit!

_THE LORD walks straight towards THE PIRATE. The guests politely part for him like the Red Sea parted for Moses. THE PIRATE catches him shooting a disgusted look to his right somewhere down the line at an elderly woman in a dusty pink gown._

_THE LORD, reaching THE PIRATE, scans slowly up THE PIRATE's chest with his eyes until he reaches his face. There's quite a difference in height between them, THE LORD is at least a head shorter than THE PIRATE._

THE LORD [ _Asking softly_ ]: What did she tell you?

_On cue, THE PIRATE's captors slowly loosen up their hold on him, until he is completely free to move as he wishes. Despite that, THE PIRATE does not run._

THE PIRATE: Señor – Sh-she didn't tell me anything, I swear. [ _Raises his hands, trying to show he means no harm, and even lowering to his knees_ ] We were just having a conversation, no harm in that, is there? [ _laughs nervously, something in his voice sounds like bargaining_ ] She said she was your cousin and she told me some sort of disease ran in your family and—

_A shiver very visibly runs down THE LORD's spine, which lets THE PIRATE know that now is the time to shut up. He grits his teeth, like he's trying to keep his own bile where it belongs._

THE LORD: … A disease, traveler? [ _Gives a brief, mirthless laugh_ ] That's – that's what she called it?

_THE PIRATE keeps his head low._

THE LORD [ _Shivering again, giving a disgusted groan_ ]: A disease. A disease. A disease. _[breathes slowly in and out through his nose]_ … I believe it's time for you to leave.

THE PIRATE: I— What?

THE LORD [ _Turning away from THE PIRATE, showing his back_ ]: You heard me. You have to go. You are no longer welcome in this room. Go somewhere else. Go home. Kindly forget everything the locals told you about this house, everything – everything they've said, it's all lies.

THE PIRATE [ _Desperately_ ]: **Edgar Leopold Wilhelm!**

  
_THE LORD pauses, and so does his heart. He turns on his heels, facing THE PIRATE again, as soon as he remembers how to. A murderous look decorates the young noble's eyes._

THE PIRATE: I... I can help you! Please. Please, let me stay just a minute longer, there's so much I don't understand.

THE LORD: You know... My name? How do you know my name?

THE PIRATE: I bothered to look past the rumors and ghost stories, that's how! I'm here – because something happened here. Something very wrong happened here, and I intend to find out what that was.

_THE LORD backs away... There is also something frightened, something dirty in the core of his chest. The lights are fading in this room, and every guest is muttering to one another._

THE PIRATE: … Whatever happened here – it's not a disease. I know that much. There's some reason you're still here. There's some reason you're letting me see all this. You are awfully shy, but I know for a fact that there's something you want me to figure out here. If there wasn't, you would have kicked me out by now. Maybe you would have killed me.

_Hands, one by one, tear through the wallpaper from behind the set, reaching around frantically on the walls. THE LORD reaches behind him, taking the broken wine bottle out of GRANDFATHER's pale hand. GRANDFATHER offers no resistance._

THE PIRATE [ _Eyes wide_ ]: Edgar. Let's. Let's be reasonable.

_THE LORD approaches THE PIRATE without a word, bottle clutched at the neck against his chest. Only breathing, laboredly, like trying to get something out of his throat._

THE PIRATE: Edgar. You don't have to do this. I'm trying to help you, I—

_THE LORD grabs THE PIRATE by the collar with strength much unlike that of a teenage boy, readying the wine bottle like a dagger behind him – and plunges it. Somewhere._

_The stage has gone pitch black, and a scream much louder than the clamor before rings out, carrying too many voices to belong to any one person._

_THE PIRATE awakens just outside the dilapidated, aged ballroom of the Rosamund Manor. The year is 1809 and he sits up and rubs his neck which is mysteriously free of any shards of glass or even a scar. He gets to his feet right away and tries the door latch – it doesn't budge an inch. He leans against the door, giving a defeated sigh._

THE PIRATE [ _Speaking aloud, though no one is there_ ]: Though you've opened another room for me... Haven't you, my lord? You know me by now, don't you? You know I'm not here for... [ _wiggles fingers_ ] Spooky ghost stories. You know I'm not here for a spectacle. [ _pauses, considering something_ ] Well. Maybe I was at first. But certainly not now. Not anymore. I'm here for you. I want to understand you, if you'll let me try. [ _stands for a few moments in silence_ ] … I won't laugh. Why would I? I promise, I won't laugh.

_Just across the hall, the sound of a lock clicking – unlocking – can be heard._

THE PIRATE: So polite. [ _to the audience_ ] Isn't it funny, how locks work? They don't open for just anybody, you know. [ _and offstage he goes_ ]


End file.
